Page 77 of Her Faithful Protector

“Don’t use him as an excuse.”

“I’ll never use a child as an excuse. He is your guide, Ava. Whatever you do, you need to do it for him.”

“Jack, have faith in me.”

“I have faith in you, Ava,” I say, my voice softening. “And I know you’ll see why I’m doing this. I can’t let it go. I’ve tried for years. It’s still haunting me.”

She looks at me. “I’m not talking about letting go. I’m talking about letting me in.”

“Here,” I say, pointing at my heart, “is a dangerous place. And I have to protect you from it.”

“Jack…”

I retreat slowly, tiptoeing down the hallway. The faint scent of baby powder lingers in the air as I reach the bedroom. Moonlight spills through the half-open curtains. Gently, I lean over the crib to kiss sleeping Quinton.

He stirs, his drowsy eyes fluttering open for a fleeting moment.

I quickly press my hand against my mouth, muffling the cry that threatens to escape. My body relentlessly trembles as if I were trapped inside a vigorously shaken snow globe. Through the haze of tears, the room becomes a blur, distorted and distorted.

“I’m going to take Elmo for a walk,” I use my standard excuse. It may be lame, but I desperately need it.

She ignores me. But I locate her phone and place it in her hand, giving her the same instructions.

“This is your answer?” she grumbles, clutching the phone as if about to crush it. “Why am I feeling that I’m the only one who’s fighting for us?”

“We’re not heroes, Ava.”

“No. I was clearly mistaken about us.”

“It’s impossible to fight for me.”

“Then what have I been doing all this time?” She looks at me straight, laying a challenge.

I wish she wasn’t so darn stubborn. “You think you’re fighting for me, for us, whatever. I’m sorry to be blunt, but you’re only fighting for yourself.”

Suppressing her gasp, as if unwilling to reveal her agitation, she asserts, “If you have any intention to leave me, leave me now. I’m sure Huxley will be more than happy to keep me and Quinton safe.”

I growl, but I walk away before I allow myself to speak.

With the flashlight guiding my way and Elmo’s leash in myother hand, I navigate the perimeter of the front yard. Truthfully, my lone walk with Elmo never takes me further than a few steps from the front door.

The frigid wind pierces through my body, infiltrating my bones as I deliberately abandon my jacket. I need the numbness. I need the icy chill to freeze my heart. I need to make this decision with my head.

After what feels like mere minutes, I return to Ava, who immediately wraps me in a warm blanket. Tears drip along my cheeks, watching sweetness fill her gaze. Yes,sweet— leaving me wondering why she wears such an expression. Didn’t we just discuss my intention to leave her? And that she’d be happy to have Comet guarding her and Quinton?

“I’m sorry, Jack. I said things I didn’t mean just now.”

I take her hand, which feels unbelievably warm on my skin. “I’m sorry, too. I was harsh on you.”

“I didn’t want Huxley. I want you,” she states. “But you were an ass for saying that I was only fighting for myself.”

I let out half a chuckle. “I was. I’m sorry.”

“I clearly haven’t listened to you. I mean,reallylistened to you. When you said you were broken, I assumed I knew what you needed. I thought I was the answer, but I hadn’t taken the time to ask what’s really in here.” She places her hand on my heart.

“You are my answer, Ava. I just got lost along the way.”

She then softly asks, “Willem’s offer. Was it why your nightmare was violent that morning?”

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